Metamorphosis
by Jessibelle811
Summary: Wanting to practice for her classes as Hexly, Calista unknowingly hits her Uncle Cedric with a Monstromorphasis spell. As he's slowly transformed into a vampire, it is Sofia who bares the brunt of his strange new desires. Can she administer the cure before the change becomes permanent? Or will his wicked new ways deter her? Cedfia, rated M.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This story was inspired by a piece of fan art I came across on Pinterest of Cedric as a vampire. If you want to take a look, you'll have to type this link into your browser (you need to remove the extra spaces as fanfiction . net does not allow links.): pinterest pin / 552535448025771383 /

All credit for that work is given to the original creator.

I made a slight mistake. I forgot that Sofia's amulet was what gave her the power to talk to animals and only Wormwood could be understood by other humans due to a potion being spilled on him. I had a small scene where other people can understand Clover. It's not integral to the story so I kept it in.

Just to clarify: Sofia is 20 in this story, Calista is 15, Cedric is about mid-30's.

* * *

_**Metamorphosis**_

Chapter One

* * *

"Hi, Sofia, can I borrow your rabbit?"

Sofia shut her book, blinking up at the girl who had appeared unannounced. "Calista? What are you doing here?"

The fifteen-year old tittered, offering an awkward wave. "Sorry, guess I should have started with hello. I'm on Samhain break from Hexly. Mom says I need to practice my mid-term spells if I want to stay at the top of my class. Do you mind if I practice one of my Monstromorphosis spells on your pet rabbit? I need a live subject, and Mom says practicing on humans is too risky for this kind of thing."

The princess gave the grey bunny napping at her feet a dubious glance. "I don't know that Clover would want to volunteer, and it's really not up to me to say. Monstromorphasis, did you say? I've never heard of such a spell. What does it do exactly?"

"Oh, it's no big deal. We don't even need to wake him up. He'll never know anything happened."

"I don't know." Sofia bit her lip. Calista was an accomplished sorceress for her age, but experimenting on an unknowing animal struck her as unethical. "Perhaps we should get your uncle to supervise?"

"Oh, please don't, Sof. I know Mummy and Uncle Ceddy talk about me as it is, how I'm doing with my schooling. You know he'd never admit it, but Uncle Ceddy can be just as bad as Granddad Goodwin when he tries to …," she pulled a face, "help."

Sofia cringed sympathetically. Yes, that she knew. Cedric hadn't fallen as far from the tree as he'd like to think. He often took over without meaning to, performing spells for Calista, rather than allowing her to try and fail on her own. Her view of his meddling was somewhat softer than Goodwin's in that she knew it was driven by his desire to protect his niece from disappointment. But even at the age of twenty, Sofia knew the girl had to try on her own.

"Okay, let's say I'm considering it, I have a few questions first," she said, setting her book aside to give the situation her full attention. "You promise this spell won't hurt Clover?"

"Not a bit. Then it's just a small matter of the counter-spell and he'll be back to normal. It'll take two minutes, tops."

Sofia pinched the bridge of her nose, wondering if it was possible to let Calista down gently without dulling the exuberant glint in the girl's eyes. She didn't see Calista brandish her wand with an exaggerated flourish, nor did she see the tell-tale sparks of magic beginning to form.

"What exactly is this spell of yours supposed to turn him into?" Sofia asked.

Calista paused the intricate weavings of her wand. "A monster, of course. This one will turn him into a vampire."

It took a moment for the odd combination of words to form meaning in Sofia's mind, "Ah, a vamp— wait, what?"

"Changeo prodigium!"

Sofia jumped to her feet with reflexes born from years of winged horse racing. She lunged, grabbing Calista's wrist, pointing the direction of her wand up and away from the sleeping Clover just as the spell shot from the tip. Both young women watched with a horrified fascination as the magic beam bounced off the glass ceiling of the solarium, ricocheted against the polished floor and shot out the double doors into the hallway. There it struck a porcelain vase on a Grecian pedestal. The vase trembled, wobbled on its base, then tipped forward and crashed to the floor in pieces.

The two of them stared at one another, sharing a moment of shock.

"Whoops," Calista cringed.

Sofia released her cautiously, sure she was not about to make another attempt. "A monster transformation spell! They teach that to children at Hexly?"

The black-haired girl shrugged. "Of course. Didn't they teach you the same at Royal Prep?"

"Certainly not. I'm sorry Calista, I can't have you transforming poor Clover into a vampire. His appetite is already insatiable at it is. If he got away before you could put the counter spell on him, there wouldn't be a carrot left in the kingdom."

"Huh?" Clover mumbled in his sleep, his nose twitching. "Did someone say carrots?"

"Don't be silly," Calista rolled her eyes, "Vampires don't eat carrots, they drink blood."

Sofia clapped a hand over her horrified expression. "Even worse!"

"Is there some kind of problem here? I thought I heard shouting." Sofia uncovered her face to find Cedric striding into the garden room. One hand rubbed absently at his chest, but he seemed unaware of it. "Calista, I thought I saw you arrive."

The girl had the good sense to flush at being caught out. "Good afternoon, Uncle Ceddy. I just stopped on my way home for Samhain break. I wanted to talk to Sofia about …" she groped for an acceptable answer, "about …"

At that moment Clover sat up straight, one paw in the air with a cry of, "Carrots!"

Cedric raised a dubious brow. "You came to talk to her about carrots?"

"Of course not," Sofia waved her hands, giggling a bit too brightly. "Carrots are just always on Clover's mind. No, she came to say hello, and I was inquiring after her studies at Hexly."

"Ah, yes," Cedric folded his hands behind his back, taking on that pedantic, authoritative role they all knew well. Calista shot Sofia a silent look of thanks. "Let's see, you're in your freshman year, so what are they doing for Samhain? Prophetic divination? Séance with the dead? Oh, the year ahead of mine got to reanimate a dead cat."

Sofia tried not to blanch at his enthusiasm.

"Actually," Calista answered with pride, "we're learning metamorphosis spells. Particularly, monster transformations."

Cedric's dour expression brightened as he took a breath and launched into a long diatribe on everything he knew on the subject. While he babbled on Sofia and Calista shared a glance, knowing they'd better settle in for a long while.

* * *

Cedric had indeed waxed philosophical about transformation spells for some time, including the rather surprising and previously unknown-to-Sofia information that he'd once transformed himself into a sea monster. When her eyes had narrowed suspiciously at that bit of information, he'd flushed and hurried to change the subject. Much of the afternoon was whiled away so that it soon became time for Calista to head home and Sofia to dress for supper. Before going to her chambers to change, she and Cedric stood at the front steps of the castle watching Calista board the flying carriage Sofia insist that she take at such a late hour. The days were growing steadily darker and colder and Calista had yet to master transportation spells.

Calista hung out the window, waving enthusiastically before finally ducking back inside when the carriage lifted from the ground. Sofia stayed, watching until the carriage became a dot on the horizon and disappeared from sight.

Dusk gathered around them, a thin chill threading through the breeze.

"So," Cedric turned to her raising his right brow, "why was Calista really here?"

"Why, Mister Cedric, I have no idea what you mean."

"You're a terrible liar and you know that. If you think I don't know she comes to you as a sympathetic ear, you are mistaken."

She could not help smiling at his attempt at a stern expression, but she could see the subtle worry in his eyes. "Nothing to worry about, I can assure you." She tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, steering them both back into the warmth of the castle foyer. "She's nervous about her mid-term spells and requested my help for some practice, that's all."

His face registered alarm. "She didn't ask to practice one of those Monstromorphosis spells on you, did she? Because human experimentation could be—"

"Very dangerous, yes, she told me. Calista is more careful than you give her credit for. She wanted to try it out on Clover, but when I found out what the spell was for, I had to intervene. It was just after that that you walked in."

They walked a bit further in silence. A frown furrowed his brow and she gave him a moment to worry over what was bothering him. They paused before the staircase leading up to her room, his own down the hall to the right. Rather than parting, she waited.

"I know Calista is smart, but I fear she lacks confidence." He looked towards the floor. "Like I did, for far too long."

His arms crossed protectively over his chest, so Sofia reached out to place a comforting hand on his wrist. "She's young and finding her way, yes, and what she really needs is your trust in her abilities. Isn't that all you needed in the end too? Someone to believe in you?"

His eyes sought hers but turned quickly away.

"You are right, of course." He sighed. "You're always right."

Inexplicably, she felt a flush rising to her face, prompting the removal of her hand from his arm. Normally she touched her friends as a means of comfort, but with Cedric is always meant something more. Something it shouldn't.

She gave a little cough to clear her throat. "Are you coming to dinner?"

"Not tonight. I don't feel terribly hungry at the moment."

She took a step back. "I'll have the cook send something to your tower. Promise me you'll eat, even a little." She pressed her lips together, unknowingly adopting the same expression he'd worn a few moments before. "You're much too thin."

His eyes rolled. "Yes, yes, so I've been told, by my mother, my sister, my niece, and now you."

"Well," she sniffed, "we all care about you."

He took perhaps a moment too long before responding. "I promise."

Something in that look sent a flutter racing through her belly. She tramped it down, as always. "Thank you."

* * *

Cedric kept his promise, if only just.

He picked at the dinner tray without appetite and without introspection on what troubled him. He simply wasn't hungry. The evening drew on, darkening the castle and sending chill winds to rattle the window panes. He finished some lingering bits of work, feeling a curious restlessness that kept him awake long after his usual time to retire. Before going to be, he piled extra logs on the fire, an unaccountable chill creeping through his bones. Putting on his bed clothes, he climbed beneath the blankets, falling into an uneasy slumber. A scant hour later found him awakened by an empty gnawing in his stomach. It was dark all around, past midnight; he rolled over trying his best to ignore the discomforting feeling in favor of warmth and sleep.

It proved of no use. The ache only grew, gaining a raw angry edge that drove sleep into impossibility. Sighing in surrender, he got up, surprised to find the night air less uncomfortable than he expected, and headed towards the kitchens.

The cooks were well accustomed to his late night raids on the larder. Between his naturally quick metabolism and the rigors of magic upon the body he ate often and with good appetite, though his frame never suggested it. On this night he found that none of the usual treats held much appeal. He forced down a cup of tea with a few sweet biscuits, a long savored favorite that sat in his stomach like lead.

Feeling less satisfied than before he came, he was now fully awake and more restless than ever. He took a long meandering route through the hallways hoping to burn off the sudden burst of energy. Night time was his preferred time for exploring the castle. The royal family and their servants were abed leaving only a few guards standing watch over the entrance doors. They were easy enough to avoid if one knew the right paths, and he did. Not that he required secrecy or was engaged in anything illicit, just that he preferred his solitude and disdained forced social pleasantries.

Set on wandering, it took a while to notice that he was following something after all, and in a very definite direction. A scent, he realized, was leading him. Something alluring and delicious, but it didn't smell like food. The pull came from somewhere near his stomach, hooking into him and drawing his feet forward. He found himself in a hallway he'd rarely traveled: the private quarters of the royal family.

Glad to be barefooted, his foot falls didn't make a sound as he wandered on, drawn almost against his will to the first door on the right. Something was burning through his veins— a desire, a hunger. The alluring scent was coming from behind the door. What he wanted lay inside only a flimsy barrier of painted oak keeping him from it.

_It?_ He took a deep draw of air through his nose, his eyes rolling back from the tantalizing pleasure of it. His mouth began to water. Not an it— _Her._

He dropped his forehead against the door, splaying wide the fingers of one hand to ground himself. Up close he knew that scent. _Sofia_. This was her room. His other hand clamped around the doorknob, turning before his brain caught up with his body. In that moment the desire was absolute, eclipsing all else.

The door swung on smooth hinges, inviting him in with complicit silence. He slipped inside, easing it quietly closed behind him. The room itself was larger than most others he'd seen in the castle, with the exception of the grand ballroom. Her bed, massive by any standard, still managed to be dwarfed by the high cathedral ceilings and open walls. Draped in tied back curtains, he was right beside the silken coverlet before realizing that the bed itself was empty, the bedding undisturbed, the pillows plumped without any indent. Her scent was still strong, but old here. He looked up, searching, and found her silhouetted curves stretched out on the window seat.

The closer he came, the warmer her scent became, adding a layer of heavy sweetness. Sofia lay curled on her side under a purple afghan, her head resting on a single throw pillow, a book splayed open across her stomach. The moonlight filtering through the window gilded her features in silvery blue. Her lashes sparkled ebony and her slightly parted lips had the color of crushed berries.

He swallowed down a fresh rush of saliva. His head pounded as a curious ache spiked through his jaw.

Somehow he saw her clearly, as if in the light of bright day. Her skin fairly glowed, pink and satin, more perfect than anything he'd ever beheld. Even her flaws held a fascinating beauty of fallible humanity. There was no fear of waking her; she was deep asleep, judging by her undisturbed breathing.

Cedric crouched down, balancing on the balls of his feet. This close her scent overwhelmed, filling his head like a drug. The ache in his jaw sharpened, spiking up behind his eyes, and his mouth opened on a soft whimper. Sofia murmured in her sleep, turning further onto her back. Her head rolled, leaving her throat long and pale in the low light. The sight of that throat— so graceful, so tender, so achingly vulnerable— stirred an unnatural hunger in his belly.

One moment he was reaching to caress a wayward curl back from her shoulder, the next found him tearing himself away, fleeing for the door. Only when cloistered in the safety of his tower did he stop, panting and sweaty, wondering what in the seven circles of Hades had he been thinking, sneaking into the Sofia's room to watch her sleep.

Sleep for him remained elusive. Tucked warmly in his bed, the hollow ache of hunger still carving a hole through his middle, he couldn't find release into the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness until the sun crested the far hills and dawn fell over the kingdom.

* * *

Author's Note: This is the beginning of a new, multi-chapter story. Since the chapters are shorter than my usual 9 – 11 pages, I hope to update every week until it is finished. Next week I'll post the final chapter of Into the Darkness and Chapter Two of Metamorphosis.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Apologies for the late posting. My week was busier than expected due to my job, and then I had family come to visit on Friday and Saturday on short notice. As such, I was unable to give my full attention to this chapter. I could have posted what I had on Friday, but I knew the quality would benefit greatly from one last careful edit.

I meant to include some mention in chapter one of this Halloween Ball, but I forgot. So, surprise! There's a ball. Isn't there always a convenient ball?

* * *

_**Metamorphosis**_

Chapter Two

* * *

Sofia swayed to the music, watching the mingling guests with a slight smile. Each breath brought in the scent of cinnamon, cloves, and other autumn spices. Baileywick had outdone himself, as always, directing the kitchen staff to provide the most delectable treats for the Halloween Ball. Bright costumes of every imagining filled the room in a carnival of color.

Sofia herself portrayed a sedate portrait in her high-waisted Grecian gown. The white chiffon hung gently around her curves, flowing to the floor. She felt a bit daring with bared shoulders as the gentle puff of her sleeves slipped down over the top of her arms. Thin gold ribbon threaded through her thick side braid matching the crisscrossing bands woven over her waist. A pair of small feathered wings completed her angelic disguise.

Her gentle smile transformed into a troubled frown, all too aware of one missing guest. Straining up on her toes, she looked over the top of the crowd, searching again for a tall figure in black. Cedric was nowhere to be seen. Indeed, she had not seen him all day, not since yesterday when they'd shown Calista off. He had promised her weeks ago that he would attend tonight's festivities. A few guests stopped to speak with her and she worked hard to remain polite and attentive. After some shared pleasantries, she made her apologies and began moving towards the doors.

She hailed Baileywick from his post by the carriage entrance.

"Yes, Princess." He bowed.

"I have to step out for a moment. I just wanted to let you know. If there are any problems, Amber can be in charge until I return."

His smile was polite, if not a little placating. He was a veteran at such soirees, but her nerves seemed to be getting the better of her.

She passed a few late arrivals on her way down the hall, making sure to greet each one with as much aplomb as she could muster. Minutes ticked by, and still there was no sign of the man she sought. He'd have to pass this way from his tower. Once she disentangled herself from her eager guests, she gathered the trailing hem of her light gown, heading directly to his door.

Her knock garnered no response so she poked her head inside. The workshop was dim and empty. Could she have missed him somehow? Could he have been heading into the ball the same moment she was heading out and they passed each other without realizing? Perhaps she hadn't seen him in her haste. Still, she stepped inside, looking around to be sure.

"Cedric? Are you in here?"

There was a sound, a faint rustling, but no reply. She hesitated only a moment before headed towards that sound, through a stone archway off the main room. It led into a small study, the walls lined with books except for a low expanse reserved for the fireplace and mantle. A fire roared in its depths, the room stifling in its heat. Cedric sat in a dark leather chair, his face hidden in his hands. On a spindle legged side table sat an open bottle and half-filled glass. The astringent sting of alcohol wrinkled her nose.

The bizarreness of the scene struck her as she took him in further. He was half-dressed in his costume, wearing black slacks, a white shirt and a rather attractive red vest. His black coat and red-lined cape were tossed over an identical chair across the room along with a pair of white gloves. She frowned, remembering how she'd picked out his costume herself, thinking at the time how he'd make a dashing vampire count.

The monochromatic scheme set off his hair in a way that took her aback. He looked very … _debonair_, the alcohol lending an air of debauchery that left her heart fluttering in a frantic kind of way.

She brushed those feeling aside, remembering her worry. "Cedric, are you all right?"

He didn't raise his face from his hands when he spoke. "You need to go, Sofia. You can't be here just now."

"The party," she shifted, feeling adrift, "you promised you'd come. Oh, but that doesn't matter just now. Are you ill?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. I feel … strange."

"I could, I don't know, make you some tea?" she offered, a little desperate to be of assistance.

"I've tried tea. And potions. And everything else I can think of. Nothing helps. Alcohol's the only thing I've found that burns away the hunger."

His voice came out in a frustrated snarl, bordering on a growl that made her heart beat faster and her belly contract.

"I'm sorry, hunger? Do you need something to eat? I could bring you some toast or something to settle your stomach. Just tell me how to help."

As she bent closer towards him, Cedric's agitated movements stilled. His lips parted, mouth opening slightly on a pant. He did not look at her face, but stared fixedly at the pale curve of her neck, or perhaps the gentle swell of her breasts above her light gown.

Unnerved by his inscrutable gaze, she began to back away. "I-I'll just start with making tea," she muttered.

His hand shot out, clasping her wrist in startlingly strong fingers. He didn't say a word, only shifted his eyes down to the little pulse jumping beneath her skin. His grip eased enough to run the pad of his thumb across that pulse in mesmerizing circles. She had to swallow twice to wet her dried up throat.

"C-Cedric?"

He blinked up at her, almost startled, as he'd somehow forgotten she was there; that there was a body attached to the delicate wrist he caressed. His eyes gleamed, fever bright. When she would have eased away, he pulled her forward with an effortless tug, twisting her round. It took a moment's confusion to catch up, wondering how she'd come to be seated across his lap, the curve of her backside fitted snugly to his groin in a way that made her cheek scald with blushing. Her wings crushed between them as he held her inscrutably close.

"I don't want any bloody tea," he growled into her ear, the reverberation in his chest rumbling through her back.

Sofia froze, breaking out in goose bumps all over, while other less principled places alighting at his husky snarl. A paralyzing languor seemed to have claimed her thoughts as well as her limbs, allowing Cedric's arms to encircled her tightly as he nuzzled her bare shoulder. The warmth of his lips brushing against her skin softened any resistance to a drowsy bemusement. Her lids fluttered, uncertain if she should sink into the sensation, but failing to do anything but.

What strange disease possessed him was forgotten by the erotic shock of his large, cool hand delving beneath the bodice of her dress to cup her bare breast. His thumb rolled over her quickening nipple, sending shivers of pleasure racing beneath her skin. Against her backside she could feel the hard evidence of his arousal where her pressed himself against her.

"Oh gods, Sofia," he moaned lowly. The deep, desperate timber of his voice spiked through her stomach, igniting a slow burn between her hips. "I don't know what's happening to me. I don't know how to stop."

_Stop_? The word flowed sluggish through her thoughts. Yes, surely, she should put a stop to this. Whatever _this_ was. And if he did not know how to rein himself in, then the responsibility fell to her. She licked her lips, set on telling him as much, but when his tongue caressed the sensitive shell of her ear and his nimble fingers pinched her aching nipple, all that fell from of her lips was a husky moan.

"So sweet," he murmured, sounding almost pained.

Dependable, steadfast, and always putting others needs before her own, Sofia was unprepared for the seductive power of having her own pleasures so ruthlessly attended. Cedric's lips moved over the arch of her pale throat with hot, open-mouthed kissed that left her drowning in his velvety embrace. One of his vice-like arms loosened, skating a hand lower, skimming over the curve of her belly and the elegant dip of her hip bone. The soft fabric of her costume proved no match for his determined fingers as he gathered up the hem to bare her thighs. Her doubts and fears were swept aside when his questing fingers found the slit in her panteletts and the pouting, damp lips beneath. She gasped, jerking against his hold at the sheer shock of being touched there. Nectar surged between her thighs in an invitation she hadn't planned to offer, but was helpless to rescind. He parted the petals of her with exquisite care, stroking away any resistance with feathery determination. His own breath rasped across her skin, offering a strange comfort to know he was as affected by this intimate passage as she was.

Consumed by the forbidden dance of his fingers, Sofia arched her neck, unable to resist the softness of his searching lips. Her pulse thundered out of control, fluttering beneath the heat of his kisses. She wove her hand up to cup the back of his neck, needing something solid to hold against so much uncertainty. Lost in a daze, she felt the scrape of his teeth a moment before he gave the tender flesh a sharp nip. Sofia arched in his arms, crying out.

"Shhh, sweetness," he soothed, before latching his lips back to her neck, suckling the stinging flesh in a tender apology.

Sofia struggled to catch her breath, wondering if she had somehow fallen into a dream, one where she'd wake sweaty and panting and aching for release. She stole a peek downward. Her skirts still clung to their pretense of modesty, only making what Cedric was doing beneath that much more irresistibly carnal. Never had she dared to contemplate a sin so dark and so sweet as the ephemeral flicker of his fingertips over the sensitive jewel hidden in the crux of her curls. The skillful application of his thumb teased and tormented the fragile bud to throbbing delight.

He continued the exquisite friction even as his long slender fingers dipped lower. She realized the flimsy comparison of dreams to reality when he slipped first one and then two fingers inside her melting core. Her moans disintegrated to sobs as the fire he'd breathed to life grew into a conflagration licking along her whole body. Wave upon wave of primal ecstasy claimed her, made all the more poignant by the wet sweetness of his mouth on her neck.

Languor suffused her limbs, making her head light as she fell back against him in a boneless heap. Cedric raised two glistening fingers and she flushed to see the evidence of her own excitement. Without preamble, he slipped those same fingers into his mouth, sucking them with a rumble of pure masculine appreciation. Watching him savor the delicate flavor of her arousal was mortifying, but she couldn't help turning to see the look of satisfaction on his face.

His dark eyes opened slowly, taking in her shocked expression. His fingers slipped from between his lips to pick up her limp wrist, raising it to his mouth where he bestowed a delicate kiss. Spent on pleasure, she shivered to find her body ready and begging for more. Her sensitive skin found pleasure in his every caress as his tongue swept over the fragile skin just below her hand. Another hot pinch of pain made her jerk, tearing through the haze of ecstasy. Cedric had her wrist trapped between his teeth. A thin trail of crimson liquid dribbled down her arm, leaking from the corner of his lips. It took a dazed moment to realize what it was: Her blood.

She tried to pull her wrist away, but he held it tight to his mouth, sucking deeply. It burned, but not so much to cause her overdue distress. But the knowledge— the slowly dawning horror— that he was _drinking_ her blood purled in the pit of her stomach, rising terror through her chest even as ripples of pleasure still pulsed all through her body.

In a slow-moving daze, she swiped at her upper chest, her hand coming away red and wet. When he'd bitten her there, she thought it no more than a lover's bite, shallow with just a hint of teeth. But he'd truly bitten her, broke the skin and left her weep tears of blood. Awakened to the truth, she could feel the same trickle creeping down her back.

Cedric loosened his grip, lapping at the thinly welling wounds. His canines glinted in the firelight, elongated and sharpened to fangs. A scream crawled up Sofia's throat, but got trapped on the way, forcing her breathing into a frantic pitch.

"C-Cedric?" She wanted him to speak to her, to tell her everything was all right and she was imaging things, or this was some ill-planned Halloween prank. One that when he saw how truly frightened she was, he'd stop. But when he looked at her, his eyes gleamed with a faint red-tinged glow.

Unaffected by her fear, his fingers wove around her nape, drawing her limp body forward to share a bloody kiss. Sofia felt her gorge rise in the back of her throat. This man –this _thing_— was no longer her Cedric. What had happened to him? It was as if he'd been transformed.

She tore out of his lap with strength born of panic, whirling around to keep him in sight. Her hand went up to ward him off as he slowly rose from the chair, hunger glinting in his inhuman eyes.

"Cedric, this isn't you." She tried desperately to break through his fixed attention. "This can't be you! Something must have happened."

He continued to stalk her, seemingly unaware of her words.

"Don't you see," she stepped backwards as he came steadily on. "We can fix this. Whatever caused you to— to—" She cursed, feeling tears stinging her eyes. "You— You don't really want this."

"Really, sweet thing?" His voice positively purred, the accent he always worked so hard to hide coming out more pronounced than ever. "Because I do so very much want you. Have wanted you."

"You have?" The declaration offset her for only a moment before she shook her head in denial. What he said had no meaning just now; he wasn't himself.

She had backed into the workshop proper and tried angling towards the door. He rounded on her, cutting off any escape route. She attempted to feign around him, but he was faster than she realized. Stronger too, as he grabbed her with both hands, shoving her back against the wall, and kissed her again. Sofia pushed hard against his shoulders, but he was immovable. His tongue swept into her mouth, momentarily diverting her thoughts. His hands moved from her arms to her waist, drawing her fast to the lean panes of his body.

She whimpered, latent heat pooling in her belly despite the circumstances.

"No." She twisted her mouth away beneath his. "No, not like this, please."

His breath panted against her ear, rough with need. "I won't hurt you, sweetness, I promise."

His lips flowed down her neck, teeth and tongue working against the sensitive flesh, rendering her weak. Her heart beat wildly, new born desire warring with the fear of another bite. With her head turned aside, she could see the workroom laid before her; she struggled to gather her wits. Whatever had happened to Cedric, he was certainly a danger to her, though what kind and to what extent she couldn't rightly say. What she did know was that he had her in an implacable grip, pinned to the wall beside his worktable and seemed disinclined to release her.

Seeking blindly, her hand found the table's edge, climbing across its surface, searching for anything that could be of some help to her. Something skidded beneath her finger tips, almost rolling out of reach before a desperate grab caught at the slim rod of carved wood. Cedric remained unaware, wholly preoccupied with planting kisses along her skin. One of his hands squeezed her breast through her bodice while the other came up to turn her face back towards his mouth. This time she allowed the kiss, purposefully softening her mouth against his. He groaned, the sound vibrating up his throat like a purr. Sofia's fingers closed around the wand she'd been searching for.

His fingers traced her jaw gently, a poignant counterpoint to the way his hips ground hers against the wall. Sofia kissed him back, flitting her tongue to his as best she could. He purred his approval again. The wand raised, unseen. When his mouth moved off hers for a moment, she murmured between them.

"_Illumo solis rupti_."

Light burst from the tip of the wand, a white-hot flash that not only blinded his half-open eyes but made him spring back with a shout of pain. Sofia tucked the sun-bright spell quickly behind her dress, ready to pull it back out if necessary; she had no wish to hurt him more than necessary.

The spell scorched his face and the hand raised to cover his eyes. Both were already healing over quickly and she knew she had only moments. He was still between her and the door and any mad dash in that direction would put her within reach of his grasp. If she lost hold of the wand, she'd be defenseless and shuttered at the implications. Instead she gathered her skirts and twisted round to climb atop the worktable.

Cedric rose, snarling with animal-like teeth. Something like betrayal shown in him inhumanly glowing eyes. Sofia gave him a last look of apology before clutching her stolen wand and diving for the only other exit. Cringing, instead of striking the painting and the solid wall behind, she flew through the portrait and away from the mournful snarl of anger and loss behind her.

* * *

Calista swirled her wand in a tight circle, murmuring the spell her grandmother had taught her. A bright glow filled the bowl before evaporating into a mound of candy.

"Very good," Winifred beamed, taking the bowl. "This should be plenty for the children. Are you sure you don't want to go out and join them, dear?"

"I am much too old for trick or treating, Nana."

"Of course you are." The elder woman smiled, pinching the teenage girl's cheek. "How could I have forgotten. Jellybean?"

Calista couldn't help a shy smile, taking a handful of candy.

"Don't grow up too fast, sweeting," Goodwin called from his spot on the couch, bouncing Calista's little brother Curtis on his knee. "Before long, you'll be taking this one out on Samahin."

Curtis gurgled, smiling wide to show off his only two teeth. By the door, Cordellia put the finishing touches on some decorations. Curling vines of brightly colored leaves hung in skeins, framing the doorway. The steps glowed with rows of carved glowing jack-o-lanterns. All of Mystic Meadows showed similar spirit in celebrating the pagan new year. Soon children would come knocking door to door begging for candy. Winifred bustled about, placing the candy bowl by the door, setting straight the odd decoration, and checking on the pies baking in the oven. The domestic scene was as cozy as could be dreamed of on a chill autumn night. An unexpected flash of silvery purple light broke through the family's revere.

Calista clapped her hands, delighted as the large portrait, a painting in the likeness of her mother and uncle when they were young, glowed beside the fire place. "I didn't know Uncle Ceddy was coming tonight."

"He wasn't," Goodwin murmured, standing as a disheveled figure stumbled out of the portrait portal. The figure, dressed in a gauzy white gown and assuredly female, was not that of his wayward, acerbic son. The girl blinked, looking around at them with large, frightened eyes.

Sofia couldn't imagine how she looked, ravaged and bloody, her white gown stained with streaks of red. Blood dribbled down her chest. More welled from her wrist, crawling a slow path across her palm to drip off her fingertips. Her crumpled wings hung brokenly down her back.

"Wicked costume, Sofia!" Calista cried, jumping to her feet, a look of delighted admiration on her face.

Sofia let out a breath that came out as a sob. Curtis began to cry, the great shuttering sobs of a frightened toddler. Cordellia wavered, caught between going to her distraught son, or the young woman swaying by the fireplace. Winifred recovered her wits before the rest.

"Great Goddess," the elder sorceress whispered with dawning horror, "Sofia, child, what happened to you?"

Sofia blinked heavily, the weight of panic in her veins slowing with the assured knowledge of safety and assistance. She began to shiver. Grey spots danced in her vision. She'd never been the kind of lady to faint, so she didn't recognize the impending signs. As the darkness closed in, dwindling her vision to a swiftly narrowing tunnel, she managed one word in answer. "Cedric."

* * *

Author's Note: Again, apologies for being late, but I wanted to give you guys my best. For those of you keeping track, the last chapter of Into the Darkness will be posted either tonight or tomorrow. (Another chapter that was about 95% complete, but I did not have the opportunity to give it that last full-attention edit.)

Chapter 3 will hopefully be up on Friday. I do have another busy week due to the nature of my job, so if it is not up by Friday it will be Saturday or Sunday at the latest.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: I posted on time!

* * *

_**Metamorphosis**_

Chapter Three

* * *

Voices murmured around her, speaking lowly to one another.

"I applied some white willow salve, but you know cursed wounds can't be healed with magic. She'll have scars, unless …"

"It can't be avoided." Winifred sighed. "We've done the best we can. Anything else?"

"No," Cordellia answered. "Just the two _bite marks_. The punctures are neat, no torn skin, no scratches. She doesn't have so much as an errant bruise." A heavy silence lengthened between the women. Sofia pretended sleep, suddenly reluctant to make her presence known, even as they spoke about her. "She didn't fight him, if that's what you're asking."

"Goddess-damned metamorphosis spells," Winifred muttered lowly, before raising her voice slightly above a whisper. "Ceddy with never forgive himself, curse or no curse."

"For what's it's worth, I cast _Nito Pudicitiam_. She is still intact."

"Thank the Goddess for small favors."

Sofia faded back into sleep, too tired to listen any longer.

* * *

She dreamed. A dream of darkness, trapped without sight, something monstrous breathing upon her neck, and no matter where she turned or how hard she ran, she could not out-pace it, nor find any escape from the dark. Eventually the dream faded and she fell into a deep sleep.

The second time she woke daylight streamed through the windows. Golden and bright, it came as a welcome counterpoint to the previous night's horrors. Almost at once she noticed clean bandage wrapped around her wrist; a touch to her throat found another taped to the side of her neck. She rose out of bed, her legs surprisingly steady and her head clear, but the room spun a bit when she looked down to see she still wore the stained white dress.

There wasn't much blood, most of it smeared in her clumsy escape, but the sight of it brought home the reality of her plight in a way the sterile bandages had not. Tears clogged her throat. It was true, then. Cedric had become some sort of monster; one that fed on human blood. Had fed on _her_ blood.

A soft knock interrupted the wild wondering of her thoughts. She turned to see Calista poke her head around the partially open door. Her shoulders slumped at a dispirited angle, and her eyes refused to raise to meet Sofia's own.

"Mom told me to tell you there's breakfast. And," she held out a bundle of red cloth without looking up, "I brought you something to wear."

"Thank you," Sofia began, taking the offered dress, but Calista was already gone, shutting the door behind her.

She stripped off the soiled costume. Someone had removed her wings before putting her to bed. They lay in a broken heap by the door. She looked around the room with the desperate curiosity of someone wishing to distract themselves from troubling thoughts. It was sparsely decorated, but with a lingering air of familiarity. Cedric's childhood bedroom, she realized, though there remained little evidence to mark it so. Whatever trinkets of personal value had been removed long ago. All that remained was a crude pencil sketch of a raven, done in the clumsy, patient hand of a child, a Hexly Hall pennant tacked to the wall, and a set of mismatched bedding that echoed its former master's eclectic style. Cedric slept with many blankets, or at least he used to, each a different color. Lifting the pillow to her nose, Sofia chanced a deep breath but any scent had faded a long time ago. Winifred obviously kept the place tidy, though frozen in the last moments of her teenage son's departure for Enchancia's castle. Sofia wondered with a little embarrassing guilt if he still slept under so many blankets. If so his bed must be cozy indeed.

The warmth of the thought left her confused and pleasantly flushed as she pulled the crimson gown over her head and laced the front ties. True red was not her color, but the earthier burgundy tone of the dress complimented her completion if nothing else. The fit was snug and a little short at the wrist and hem, but it would do as a temporary substitute.

A looking glass hung over the dresser. She paused to take in her reflection, more automatic than curious. Her state of dress was a distant back ground to the stark white bandage pressed to her neck. She could no longer ignore the obvious. She didn't wish to undo any of Winifred's careful healing, but she had to see. The tape stuck and she had to pick at the edge with her nails to free a corner. It still pulled painfully as she uncovered the mark on her neck. Two puncture wounds, free from blood, but scabbed over and puckered angrily at the edges. About an inch apart, approximately the width of a set of human canines. Her mind flashed an image of red stained fangs beneath a leering smile.

The word was right at the front of her mind. She'd read enough stories and certainly met enough fantastical creatures to readily believe the impossible when it stared her in the face.

Cedric had become a vampire.

* * *

Sofia finished her toilette, knowing she couldn't hide forever from Cedric's family. The moment she was out the door, Winfred was upon her.

"Sofia, dear, come have breakfast."

Nervously, she smoothed down the edges of the bandage at her neck. They'd have question. Understandable given her dramatic entrance into their lives last night. They'd expect her to have some answers, but she wasn't sure she had any of worth. What she did remember, she wasn't keen to share.

Cordelia and Calista were already seated at the dining room table. Curtis happily mashed handfuls of pancakes into his wide-open mouth, managing to get most of it on the floor instead. Calista stared down into her plate, listlessly pushing blueberries around with a fork.

Winifred led Sofia to an empty chair. The sight of freshly steaming pancakes dripping with butter and syrup ringed with fresh berries reminded her of how hungry she was. The first bite melted on her tongue. She ate the rest with vigor, wolfing down the food her body so obviously craved to regain any strength lost.

With her plate empty and her stomach pleasant sated, some of the weariness finally began to lift from her limbs. With it came an awareness of how quiet the room had become, though not uncomfortably so.

"Thank you," Sofia said, looking up. "I needed that."

"You're welcome, dear." Winifred smile gently and sipped her tea.

"Aren't you going to ask me any questions? About what happened?" As much as she didn't want to supply any answers, she'd rather clear the air than let the tension draw on.

"Oh that. We already know."

Sofia stared at the elder sorceress. "You do?"

Winifred nodded. "Mm hm."

"What exactly is it that you know? Because I'm not sure I understand it myself. The best I can figure is that your son has become a … a … That is, he seems to have transformed into a …"

"A vampire," Winifred offered succinctly. "Yes, we know."

Sofia gaped at the idea being bandied about so casually.

Winifred took pity on her. "I admit, child, that we were all a bit shocked by your rather remarkable appearance last night. After you fainted, Cordelia and I set about dressing your wounds while Goodwin went to the castle to investigate what precipitated them. Cedric was no where to be found. Goodwin came back to give us a quick update before resuming his search. He's been out all night." A small frown creased her brows. "Anyway, based on your wounds, we had several theories, but then my darling granddaughter confessed to a worry that had bothered her since your arrival. Calista?"

The girl finally raised her dark head. "It's my fault, Sofia."

"Your fault," Sofia scoffed, "I don't see how."

"Don't you remember the Monstromorphosis I tried to cast on Clover? I thought the spell simply dissipated, but it must have ricocheted and hit Uncle Ceddy. I'm to blame for turning my uncle into some blood thirsty monster." Tears glittered in her dark brown eyes. "It's my fault you were attacked. I am so sorry."

Sofia pushed her chair out to turn and take the Calista's hands in hers. "You're right in that your explanation makes sense. I'd forgotten about the spell until now. But, Calista look at me, you have nothing to apologize for. It was an accident. You meant no harm."

"No harm?" the girl cried, turning over Sofia's hand to show her bandaged wrist. "I'd say you suffered plenty harm. You were bitten by a vampire twice. Twice! Oh, it must have been awful."

The memory of reclining half across Cedric's lap, his warm hands cupping bare flesh, made Sofia's face heat. She found she couldn't meet anyone's eyes. "I'm not sure awful is the word I'd use," she mumbled ineffectually.

She peeked up just in time to catch the tail end of a long, meaningful look traded between Winifred and Cordelia. Sofia breathed a sigh of relief when a flash of light heralded Goodwin's arrival. He looked tired and drawn, his usual jovial manner no where to be seen. He raised a hand, staving off the questions already forming on his wife's eager lips.

"No, dearest, I'm afraid I don't have any news. I searched everywhere I could think, but I didn't find him."

Winifred sagged back in her chair, her earlier aplomb vanishing as worry creased the lines of her face. Goodwin turned to their guest.

"Princess, allow me to offer my sincerest and most abject apologies for my family's behavior—"

"No," she waved the rest of his words away. "Do not apologize. It is I who should be thanking and apologizing to you for imposing so. I'm sorry to barge in on your family is such a state as I was in last night. I guess I just … panicked."

His brittle decorum dropped into something entirely more natural and feeling. "Of course you panicked, child, anyone would."

"He is going to be all right?" Sofia ventured, voicing the worry that had plagued her since she woke and the subtle source of guilt. "Cedric, I mean. In my rush to get away I may have … burned him, with a sunlight spell."

"Very clever," Goodwin stroked his beard, looking more impressed than concerned. "Those under a vampire metamorphosis spell take on all the attributed associated with the creature, including a susceptibility to sunlight and unprecedented healing ability. Cedric will be fine in that regard."

The frown on his face chilled her, as if a cold wind had rushed through the room. "And in every other regard?"

He cleared his throat. "Normally, to reverse the Monstromorphasis spell one need only perform the counter-curse, but as time passes the spell becomes harder to undo."

He motioned for her to follow. Together they passed into a room Sofia had never seen before, one attached off the main living area. From the shelves upon shelves of books with old crumbling spines to the rows of clean phials and waiting cauldrons, all polished and free of dust, she recognized a sorcerer's active workspace when she saw one. Goodwin's was methodically clean and ordered in nature. A sad pang squeezed her heart, thinking how Cedric's workshop at the castle was often disorderly, barely hanging on to an organized kind of chaos. She had never minded the clutter as it echoed his eccentric personality.

Goodwin searched a moment, his wizened fingers tapping along various books until he found the one he sought. Laid open across the book stand, Sofia approached slowly to see an illuminated page with flowing script. The formulation for a potion, she realized, complex and requiring a great deal of care to make. The elder sorcerer read over the page, muttering to himself.

"Sir?" She questioned, feeling he may have become too distracted to remember her presence. Ever since he'd intimated that curing Cedric was no longer a small matter, her nerves had grown tighter by the second.

"Ah, yes," Goodwin blinked, turning to her. "Apologies, Princess. I will explain."

"Please." She took a seat on a spare stool, barely balancing on its edge.

"Monstromorphosis is not in itself a dangerous spell. Simple transfiguration at its heart, most mages use it when more than a simple illusion is required, or when they need to utilize the enhanced abilities that come from the transformation."

Sofia's shook her head, not following.

"A tracking mage, for example, might find great use in having the scent ability of a werewolf. But, if I am being honest, most mages merely dabble in the spell, using it for the likes of Samhain costumes or—" Here his cheeks colored to a ruddy shade. He cleared his throat. "Or other personal uses."

Sofia examined her skirt, pretending not to understand what those uses could be.

He cleared his throat. "The point is that under normal circumstances the mage that under goes the transformation is, for one, willing and aware of it, and, two, prepared for all eventualities to reverse the spell of their own accord. If Calista had discovered that she spelled Cedric at the moment it happened, she could have easily reversed it before there was any complications."

"And now?" Sofia asked, looking at him directly.

"Now," Goodwin sighed, "it is not so easy. The first night is the easiest time to administer a counter spell. Even last night would not have been so difficult, though Cedric's mind may have already been turned against the idea."

She opened her mouth, alarmed, but he motioned for patience.

"One thing at a time, my dear. As I was saying, last night a counter-spell would still have been sufficient. That is until Cedric partook of your blood. I mentioned his mind being turned against the idea of a cure." He waited until she nodded, showing that she was still following. "The transformation spell, if left too long, changes more than the body. Being changed into a vampire does come with the rather nasty side effect of a craving for blood. The craving grows, becoming irresistible. But the drinking human blood is a crime against nature, and once that threshold is crossed, the spell itself becomes something different. A curse. Far darker and much more difficult to lift."

Sofia remembered finding Cedric slouched in the chair before the fire. He had mentioned a hunger that could not be dissuaded by food, tea, or potions. _"Oh gods, Sofia,"_ he had said. _"I don't know what is happening to me and I don't know how to stop." _The signs were there, if only she had listened, but there had been quite a lot going on, like Cedric's hand down her bodice and his lips caressing her neck. The sentiment did not absolve her guilt; if anything she felt worse.

"If you don't mind my asking, Princess, can you tell me a little of how you came to be the one affected by Cedric's affliction."

She tried not to fidget on her stool like a guilty child caught out for pilfering sweets from the kitchen jar.

"Well, we were holding the annual Halloween Ball and Cedric promised me he'd come." Goodwin nodded, apparently knowing that much. "He didn't show up at the ball, and I had not seen him all day, so I went to check on him in his tower. I thought he was sick, that I could be of some assistance …"

She trailed off, but Goodwin did not appear to need any more. He nodded sagely. "I see. You were the unfortunate victim of being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

She frowned. She had not thought about it like that, as circumstance. A mere coincidence that he'd attacked her by proximity. She wanted to ask more, if Cedric would have attacked anyone who happened to across his path, but found she couldn't. The unwelcome image of some comely maid trounced across his lap accosted her imagination. Embarrassment and shame swept through her in equal measure. At the time, before she had become aware of his condition, she thought the intimacies he'd taken motivated by special meaning. Something shared between the two of them with feeling. Instead she'd allowed herself to be tumbled like a common floosy for a few caresses and whispered words. She refused to dwell on what all this would mean once Cedric was cured, and instead focused on the most pressing problem.

"And now that he's partaken of human blood? How do we lift this curse?"

He motioned to the spell book. "A potion. A powerful one designed to cleanse the body of all corruption. The ingredients are all of the purest form, most rare and costly. Thankfully, between my stores and those at the castle, I have obtained them all. But there is only enough for one, maybe two doses at most. The real difficulty will be getting him to take it. Under the best of circumstances, if we could find where he's taken shelter from the daylight, it would be a simple matter of pouring the cure down his throat as he slept. Awake, he's going to be far less inclined. And," his eyes took on the weight of all his many long years, "there is another problem."

A shiver crawled down Sofia's spine. Though she did not wish to hear the answer, she asked, "Which is?"

"The curse must be lifted within three nights. One has already passed. We have two days and two nights to find Cedric and cure him, otherwise the change becomes permanent."

"Permanent?"

Goodwin began to pace, his hands folded behind his back, his head bowed in meditative thinking, though she knew there was nothing tranquil about his thoughts. He moved with the energy of a man half his age, agitated and troubled. "True vampires, those turned by another of their kind, are notoriously cruel and amoral creatures. They are the highest level of the undead, possessing a human mind and cunning, but without the liability of a conscience. Cedric has not yet lost the last of his humanity, but it will have dwindled greatly, even by tonight. By tomorrow, he'll barely resemble himself. And once his humanity is gone, so will his soul."

Her hand clasped to her mouth, barely containing her gasp. "No!"

"I am afraid so, my dear. And though vampires are immortal, they are not known to be long-lived creatures. They often fall victim to the whims of their disease, caught in the sun without shelter, killed by an angry mob seeking revenge, that sort of thing. Cedric will be a danger to Enchancia's population and I think we both know the king cannot allow such a threat to exist."

Sofia nodded, but reflexively, her mind filled with horrors that went far beyond a little embarrassment on her part. "Is Cedric dangerous in his current state?"

Goodwin's white brows rose near to his hair. "I think you can attest to that yourself, dear."

"I meant to the people of Enchancia. Will he attack someone else?"

"Almost certainly. His hunger will drive him to it. He'll be dormant during daylight hours, but once night falls, it will be much harder to find him, let alone force the cure upon him."

Out the window, the sun hung low in the misty morning, but the shortening November days did not last long and time was against them. Sofia's lips thinned, pressed into a determined line. "Then we'll just have to find him before night fall."

* * *

Author's Note: Dun dun DUHN! Next posted on Friday.

For those of you following Into the Darkness, I'm still working on chapter 4. And by working, I mean ignoring it. That might sound like a joke, but sometimes I have to take a break from a chapter and come back to it to find out what's wrong. Because somethin' just ain't right. I'll post as soon as I figure out what it is and fix it.

What do you lovely readers think? Is Goodwin right that vampy Cedric would have/will attack any convenient victim that crosses his path? Or does he have the wrong end of the stake on that one? ;)

Reviews please! Consider them my Halloween treats since my kids have caught on to my stealing their Reeses. :P


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Dear reviewers, you are all amazing and I just wanted to let you know. Sorry I am not organized enough to respond to each and every review personally, but I am grateful for every single one and really enjoy your individual insights.

If you are at all interested in excuses, I did not mean to abandon this story. Back in November, around my last update, I was unexpectedly contacted by my local library with a job offer. As you can imagine, I was dorkishly thrilled. I left my old job and threw myself into the new one with enthusiasm. Then with the holidays and eventually the Covid shut down, things just kept snowballing and writing took a back seat.

Please forgive any typos. I'm terrible at editing my own work.

* * *

Metamorphosis

Chapter Four

* * *

The hollow click of their heels echoed off the castle corridor, reminiscent of the hollowed feeling inside Sofia's chest. Each footfall seemed to tap out the refrain that had circled her thoughts since leaving Goodwin's study: two-days, two-days, two-days. They had two days to not only save Cedric's life, but his soul as well. If they didn't make it in time … An icy shiver raced down her spine, creating an ache so deep that even her bones hurt to think on it. If Cedric became the monster Goodwin had alluded to the king would have no choice but to send out guards and have him hunted down and destroyed. Panic at the thought threatened to swamp her reason entirely, so she focused on the tenuous plan cobbled together in Mystic Meadows. At this very moment Mister Goodwin was brewing the intricate antidote potion. It would take most of the day and obsessive devotion to detail, she he was occupied for the entire day. Winifred was left scouring their considerable library, hoping for some bit of knowledge or magic to aid them. Calista had been protestingly put out of harm's way, in charge of babysitting her brother. Before leaving Sofia had tried to assure the girl that all would turn out well. For now, they had agreed not to tell Calista of the full ramifications of the spell-turned-curse, but the sharp look in the girl's eyes told Sofia that she'd deduced enough to know they were hiding something from her. With everyone else occupied, that left Sofia and Cordellia tasked with informing the king of the situation and organizing some manner of search for the missing sorcerer.

Returning to the workroom via the enchanted portrait, Cordellia had first made a throughout sweep of the tower, though neither woman expected to find him sequestered there. Sofia had waited in the workroom, staring fixedly, if unfocused at the errant trail of blood drops leading from the study. That strange sense of detachment had not left her as they left the tower and headed for the throne room. The king held public audience on the first of each month, hearing petitions of the villagers and rendering judgement upon disputes. They hurried that way, walking quickly but trying to keep an unobtrusive air so as not to alarm the servants or guards. Sofia's legs trembled, begging her to run, to move faster, but there was nowhere to run to. If Goodwin had not been able to suss out his son's hiding place, what chance did she have? Her heart beat like it threatened to bust, each breath a shaky sigh.

"Sofia?" The subdued call of the enchantress at her side brought the princess's thoughts up short. In a fresh gown and upswept hair, Cordellia appeared stately and reposed in comparison to Sofia's borrowed, ill-fitting dress and unkempt locks. Calista had also lent her a wide choker of black lace, dripping with jet beads to cover the punctures at her throat. A matching cuff bracelet hid her wrist. The enchantress peered at her from the side of her shadowed eyes. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," Sofia answered automatically not breaking her stride.

Cordellia gently gripped the girl's wrist, forcing her to stop beside her. She looked the princess in the eye, enunciating carefully, "Sofia, dear, are you all right?"

For a tremulous moment Sofia felt her throat constrict and her eyes begin to burn. "How can I be? We have less than 48 hours to find your brother or he'll lose his soul."

Cordellia pursed her lips, arms crossing over her chest. Her voice was quieter and more motherly than Sofia had ever heard before. "Did he hurt you?"

Sofia looked away, evading the weight of understanding in the older woman's eyes, afraid of how that understanding invited her to unburden her heavy heart. "You saw the state I was in when I came through the portrait last night."

"I know he bit you, my dear, what I'm asking is if he hurt you. He's my little brother, but I assure you, I will happily castrate him for you if he did."

Sofia flushed from a mixed mortification that she knew without being told that some liberties had been taken, but also warmth that Cordellia thought to protect her even against her own flesh and blood. Sofia remembered the whispered conversation she'd heard between the woman and her mother; both seemed to understand the situation better than all Goodwin's scholarly treatise could tell him.

"I'll be fine," she replied, more resigned than convinced. She had to be fine with it, because what else could she do? If she gave into the hurt and sadness tugging at her bones, if she even acknowledged them, she feared she'd become a useless puddle of tears, and that would simply not do. "Really."

Her lips pressed thin, but Cordellia nodded. "If you insist, but the offer stands."

They began to walk again. Sofia picked at the edges of the cuff, feeling the slight ridge of the puncture wounds beneath. "Besides," she said, picking back up the conversation. She couldn't meet the other woman's eye. "Mister Goodwin explained it to me, how those under a vampire curse aren't exactly _choosy_ with their victims."

Cordellia's perfectly shaped brow arched. "He told you that?"

"Poor timing on my part." Sofia's laugh was as brittle as new ice. "Simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Cedric's hunger would have driven him to attack anyone who crossed his path. It just happened to be me."

The older woman scoffed. "I don't think—"

She did not get to say what she didn't think because the din of a dozen raised voices cut her off. Rounding the corridor to the public throne room, they were surprised to find the large waiting area filled with pushing and muttering villagers, each vying to have their say. Even Baileywick's unflappable composure could not quell the current of frenetic unease running through the crowd. Amid their ranks she heard a jumbled account of "snarling growls", "glowing eyes", and "supernatural beast." She glanced at Cordellia, their eyes meeting on a shared expression of dread. Resolutely, if slowly, they began to push their way to the front of the tightly packed crowd.

* * *

"One at a time, please," Roland shouted from the dais at the back of the room, waving his hands in a call for order.

"Sire," Brendon the baker stepped forward, his slouch hat crumpled between nervous hands. The other let him speak, lending deference to his testimony. "If I may. Yesterday, in the dark of night, I can attest that some foul beast was indeed stalking the village."

"Some beast?" Roland stroked his chin. "Can you describe this creature?"

"Not rightly, y'er highness. I did not catch sight of it, but I could hear its snarling growl beneath me window down the alley behind the bakery."

The king turned to his son seated on a smaller throne beside him. Prince James looked resplendent in his armor as Captain of the royal guard. "Were there any reported injuries from this animal?" Roland asked.

Sofia's shoulders began to ache, her muscled tense to the point of trembling. She strained to hear, even as she murmured another polite excuse as she jostled her way between two heavy set dock workers.

"None so far." James shrugged his broad shoulders affably. "Dad, are we sure this wasn't some prank pulled off by a couple of kids? Last night was Halloween after all."

Brendon huffed an affronted sigh, but Roland looked to him. "He has a point. If no one saw this so-called snarling creature, are you sure it wasn't some teenagers having a bit of fun at your expense, Brendon?"

Old man Fitz answered in an impatient shout. "Was it teenagers what scared my sheep clear out their pen?"

"And frightened my poor Mittens half to death?" Goody Hubbins crooned, stroking a nervous looking calico who mewled pitifully in her arms.

Roland heaved a weary sigh, trading dubious looks with his son. "All right, I shall have the royal guard look into it."

"If I may, your majesty!"

The crowd murmured a moment, before parting to show through to where Cordellia and Sofia stood. Even the princess blinked, startled by the enchantress's sudden command. Cordellia flung her head back proudly, lifting her skirts of emerald silk just enough to give the impression of gliding as she strode up to the dais. Sofia trailed in her wake.

"Cordellia," Roland blinked through lifted brows. "This is a surprise. And … Sofia, where have you been? Baileywick has been searching for you all morning."

"Sorry, Dad," the princess muttered, trying not to look guilty and succeeding by a slim margin.

Amber, seated to their father's left and previously studying her nails, finally looked up. A curl pulled at her glossed lips. "Gracious, Sofia, Halloween was yesterday, so why are you dressed like the bride of Dracula?"

Sofia glanced down at the gown burgundy satin trimmed in black velvet. "Calista lent me a dress. My costume got … stained."

"Yes," Cordellia sailed smoothly to her rescue. "I'm afraid the Princess was caught unaware by a nasty stomach bug last night. Poor dear was too embarrassed to come back what with the party going on. My mother saw fit to nurse her with her skills."

"Well," Roland frowned, taken somewhat aback by this unexpected news, "please extend my thanks to Winifred, but … ah …"

"What am I doing here?" Cordellia asked sweetly. "Well, you see my brother Cedric has also fallen ill. He's not himself, right now, your majesty and quite useless to you in his current state. I came to offer my services until he's better."

Roland blinked, unsettled but trying not to show it in the face of the building village crisis. The peasants around them began to murmur. Sofia fiddled with the cuff bracelet, tugging it down to hide one red puncture that had peeped out. She tried not to think of the ways Cedric had truly fallen ill. Cordellia remained poised and regal, as if there were nothing unusual or untoward about her explanation. Sofia had learned the same trick in years' past with her secretive exploits: act confident and others will more often than not believe you. Even if what is coming out of your mouth is complete tripe.

Finally, the king said, "Well, your timing is fortunate. I don't suppose you heard the strange occurrences reported in Dunwhitty last night?"

"I did," The enchantress dipped into an impossibly elegant curtsy. "With your leave, I can accompany these people back to the village to search for this unfortunate beast."

Roland shared a look with his son. "That would be most appreciated. James have some of your men accompany them. And have someone help Mr. Fitz round up his missing sheep."

A general rumble of accent wove through the crowd. Many remained shaken, but their faith in the ruling family gave them some measure of comfort. Being accompanied by an enchantress gave them even more so. As Cordellia made to part with the baker and a contingent of soldiers, she pulled Sofia aside for a private moment.

"I will search the village as best I can. You take care of the castle and grounds. Use the portrait in the tower to report back to my father if you find him or any clue of my brother's whereabout. And, Sofia—"

The princess, who had been nodding through the terse instructions stopped to look into the older woman's earnest expression. Cordellia's eyes softened into something enigmatic, but Sofia's first impression was regret.

"Despite what my father says, I believe we cannot succeed without your help."

Sofia blinked, bemused. "Of course. But I don't see what is special about what I can do?"

"It is not what you can do, my dear, but who you are that is the key."

She quirked her brow in question to Cordellia's cryptic words and aloof posture.

Cordellia sighed. "I do not believe we will be able to lure him out in time on our own, but I do think he'll be drawn to you."

"M-me? But he's a vampire now, surely he'll be hunting for any convenient source of blood."

The enchantress's lips thinned. "On this account my father is being severely short-sighted. Mother and I are in agreement. Cedric doesn't just want blood, my dear, he wants you."

* * *

Unless the Monstromorphosis curse came with the added ability of transforming into a broomstick or an assortment of dusty furniture tucked away in an empty closet, Cedric was not waiting out his dormant hours in the castle. Several hours and hundreds of steps later, Sofia had carefully combed every inch of the vast castle. That done, she turned her attention to the grounds. The day felt long, though the hours of daylight grew short. Her feet ached, her head throbbed, and her stomach protested as she had not so much as paused to eat since breakfast that morning. She pressed on, the task before her as insurmountable as ever. Never before had she stopped to contemplate just how many outbuildings the castle grounds held. The sun had already passed its zenith, sinking steadily to the west. Urgency quickened her strides as she searched first the stables, then the gardener's shed, the royal zoo, and the covered gazebo. All empty, not a trace of him. As tactfully as she could, she questioned every maid, butler, groom and groundskeeper she came across, but they all shook their heads having seen nothing out of the ordinary, except a few scattered tales that mirrored the villagers: a shadow in the night, a flash of glowing eyes. Surreptitiously, Sofia peeked as best she could at each one's neck but found no trace of a wound.

With each dead-end, hopelessness threatened to flag her spirits, but she persisted relentlessly onward, searching her memory for any small place he might have found to hide. She hoped that Cordellia might have better luck in the village, but began to doubt. Surely someone would fetch her straight away if he'd been found. Her worry began to mount with each passing moment. Desperate, she turned down the winding paths of the hedge maze, thinking of some hidden corners and little stone buildings scattered throughout that might suit the slumber of a vampire seeking refuge from the sun. Following the endless monotony of close green walls, the thoughts that she'd work hard to keep at bay began to push to the front of her mind. Over and over, she had ushered them resolutely back behind the urgency of the matter at hand. A guilty part of her recognized gratitude for the emergency. With a ticking clock over her head, she hadn't had time to think on Cedric's curse beyond curing it. She hadn't paused to think— _to remember_— how his altered state had enticed him to behave. Mister Goodwin's confident assessment that Cedric was merely acting on animal instinct, attacking out of hunger and nothing more, left her feeling confused with disappointment. Whereas Cordellia's equally sure declaration that Cedric would be drawn to her and her alone made Sofia confused in a whole other way. And beneath those warring faction of heart and mind swam the memories of the previous night: his lips on her neck, his voice husky against her ear, his eyes predatory and sharpened on her body. His hands on her skin and how she had _wanted_ them there. She shivered in the cooling air, her too tight dress making it hard to catch a decent breath.

Her steps hastened as if trying to outrun her own thoughts. Down one long over-grown path she nearly blundered into an old rusted gate closed across an opening in the hedge. Years' worth of vines grew up and over showing that it had not been opened in a very long time and Sofia remembered why.

Tentatively she peered inside, the metallic ozone scent of magic tickling her nose. She shouldn't go this way, but something made her open the gate on a rusted squeal and step inside. The wishing well glinted in the slanted sunlight, its smiling edifice looking more like a leer. Her skin crawled when its oddly mechanical voice chimed out:

_Give me your riches and I'll grant you three wishes._

A shiver like ice slipped down her spine had her hugging her arms beneath her breasts. The thing was not evil exactly, but its magic was mischievous and not to be trusted. She didn't bother to consider using the well to wish for Cedric's curse to be lifted. Doing so would only wreak some other havoc. She turned to go, shaking her head against the temptation. The well remained silent, waiting. At the gate she paused, considering despite her better judgement against it. A small band of gold glinted around her smallest finger, a rainbow pearl set in its center. A bit of costume jewelry from her costume that she'd had neither the time nor the inclination the remove. Slipping it from her finger, she held it a moment, eyes closed, breath held, before turning back. The ring fell into the well's mouth and a greedy lick of magic sucked hungrily at her fingers as she snatched her hand back. She rubbed it briskly on her skirts to be rid of the feeling.

_What is it you wish for, Princess Sofia?_

She spoke slowly, taking care with each word. "I wish to ask one question and for you to answer it honestly."

The well was silent a moment.

_Very well. Ask your question and I will tell._

Sofia let out a shaking breath, not sure she'd won just yet. "Where is Cedric at this very minute?

The well was quiet and for a moment she feared it wouldn't answer. Then it chimed,

_In repose as deep as death,_

_Enrobe in darkness he takes his rest._

_Be bold Princess, do not be meek,_

_A familiar tomb is what you seek._

It fell silent again, it's metal face as impassive as ever. She frowned, knowing better than to be disappointed, yet feeling it all the same. "Is that all?"

The well was didn't answer, twinkling mockingly in the slanting sunlight. She resisted the urge to kick its marble pedestal, knowing she'd get nothing but a sore toe for her trouble. Enigmatic and vague, she should have known it would give her nothing directly.

But perhaps it had given her _something_.

Pacing back through the garden hedge, she tried to think. The first two lines were obvious enough. As a vampire, Cedric would fall into something closer to catatonic than mere sleep. And necessity would dictate it be dark and free from the threat of sunlight. The third line was also not hard to decipher, she needed to be bold indeed to seek out a vampire that had already tasted her once. The last line … that was the key.

"A familiar _tomb_ is what you seek?" In all her years, in all her adventures, she'd never been one to traipse about graveyards or desecrate crypts. A familiar tomb, familiar to whom? To her? So far as she knew the Dunwhitty cemetery held no monuments beyond gravestones and the rare carved angel, no crypts or tombs housing the dead. She shivered despite the sun. Her birth father had no grave, only a marker inscribed _Beloved Father and Husband, Lost at Sea_. There was a vault where the royal family members were entombed, but she had never been there, let alone become _familiar_ with the place.

Wildly, her thoughts turned. Perhaps she could ask the well another question for another payment? Her hand was already moving to the earring pierced through her right ear when she snatched her fingers back, scowling. With a last glance she moved away from the cursed well, shutting the gate tightly behind her, even rearranging the vine back around it to better hide its facade. As her intuition told her, using the well was a losing game. She may have garnered some clue of Cedric's whereabouts, but unraveling that clue was up to her alone. The well would only twist her around further.

She reached the far end of the maze, meeting the tall bricked wall of the back garden. Vines had grown over here as well, covering the wall until it resembled a thick carpet of green. She turned to her right following the narrow path between hedge and wall, deeply concentrating but unable to escape the nagging feeling that she was missing something right before her eyes. She wrapped her arms about herself, shivering in the cooling air, only just noticing how the shadows lengthened as the temperature quickly dropped. Her head snapped up, a gasp escaping her lips. The sun sank low on the horizon, visible but sinking towards the far hills.

"Sunset?" She breathed, unable, or perhaps unwilling to believe the entire day had passed already. "It can't be sunset!"

The small determined voice inside her tried to reason that Cedric was probably fine. He'd been found by Cordellia, and in his family's excitement, they had merely forgotten to tell her. Or perhaps she'd wandered so far from the castle that she hadn't heard any one calling for her. She tried to believe but deep down she did not. Her throat burned, suddenly hot and dry as her eyes prickled.

She scrubbed her sleeve across her cheeks to wipe away the tears.

"Get it together, Sofia," she ordered herself. There was no way to go but forward. Their prospects weren't hopeless yet, just increasingly complicated. They still had a plan. If Cedric were not found dormant during the day, then he'd be driven to hunt during the night. She hastened to the castle. There she quickly changed out of Calista's too-tight dress, discarding the choker and cuff in favor of her riding breeches, a high button shirtwaist, warm boots, and a thick cloak. After putting in a quick appearance with her family, she was to meet Cordellia and the rest at the cottage in Mystic Meadows. Then, with darkness fallen, the real hunt would begin.

* * *

Author's Note: I got to admit, this story is pure fun for me to write. I love my sexy vampire trash. :-P

Let me know what you're thinking. Did you miss this story? I'm going to try for updating twice a week until complete. Keep your fingers crossed!


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